Awaken
by MagicMysticFantasy
Summary: A oneshot of Draco's thoughts after the Battle of Hogwarts explaining the nod between him and Harry in the epilogue a little more. He reflects over his actions and the course the war took, and thinks about what will happen in the future now that the war is over. His decision in these moments changes many things for him and his future descendents.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or its characters, only my original ideas._

 _Note: Feel free to leave a review! They make my day when they're good, and let me know where to improve when they aren't. Thanks, and enjoy!_

Awaken

You don't want to be here anymore. You've seen enough violence and hostility to last several lifetimes. You've seen so much _hate_ in this world that you're astounded any form of society exists, much less thrives. All of this has been seen in a mere seventeen years, and your soul feels old. A glance at Potter shows much of the same, and for the first time in your life, you think you truly understand him as he has understood you for so long.

In some ways, the two of you are either side of the same coin – both just children thrown into a war too big for people too small, fighting on opposite sides for the exact same reason. Your families. You turn your gaze to your own small family, worn and broken. Soon to be torn apart if the Ministry has anything to say about it. On some level, you admit that you deserve it after everything that happened. That side is the weak one, the one far too old for your still-young frame.

The stronger part of you is the one that still bothers to try to feel, the one that feels outraged. Can't they understand? Don't they see? What would they have done in your position? They have risked their lives, and their family's, but they were never in the same position you were.

They never had to sit in front of the Dark Lord and pray to whatever force exists that your shields would hold just long enough for you to survive another night. They never had the poisonous snake at their neck every second of every day just waiting for you to twitch and impale yourself on his fangs. They always had a choice to back out and run if the going got too tough. You never had that choice, and did what you had to so you could protect your own.

Now they look at you with judgment and with fear. They look at you with hate, choosing to look at only the surface of the image. You understand why. Now that the Dark Lord is gone, they need someone to hate, and have found that someone in you. In the process, they fail to see that holding onto their hatred – as deserving as it may be, you have to admit – is presenting the exact same problem that they just tried to solve.

Prejudice. It is a foul word, and one that you could scrub from your tongue, your mind, your heart. You wish you could scrub it from your soul, and attempt to start all over, but nothing can clean as deep as that. You've made your mistakes, and now it's time to live with them. All you can feel at the realization is resignation. You wish you could feel remorse, guilt, anger, fear. All you are is weary.

There is an exhaustion settling deep in your bones, the kind that takes years to go away if it ever truly does. You are tired of fear and hatred, just as you are tired of anger. If it helps them to be angry at you then let them, because in your exhaustion it will have no effect. A glance around what used to be the Great Hall shows that at least a handful – probably more – feel the same as you do.

Your eyes reach Potter once again, and he has the look of a soldier returned from battle. In some ways, you realize that's what he is. He may not have been part of an army for a lot of the conflict, but he was a soldier nonetheless. If Longbottom was leading the army, then Potter was on a solo mission. You can see his exhaustion only because you can feel it in yourself. You remember that he wanted to be an Auror. After this, you doubt he will go through with it when it comes time to choose.

In retrospect, you and he are a lot more alike than you would have liked to admit. Neither of you let others see your internal struggles, instead presenting some sort of mask to the rest of the world. Both of you are used to attention, you from your family name and he from his fame. Neither of you want the attention you have, but he can ignore it while you were trained to love it.

Potter turns and catches sight of your gaze. You don't look away, and for a moment, you just study each other. You suddenly remember the two times he saved your life tonight, despite never getting along and being on opposing sides of the battle. Usually you would chalk it up to Gryffindor idiocy and courage, but after today, you wonder if maybe its something else. Maybe it's something that even his friends can't pinpoint. Maybe it's just him. You certainly can't think of anyone else who would risk their life to save an enemy's.

If this is who is leading the rest of Magical Britain into recovery, then you think that might just be alright with you. If he is willing to look beyond the mask of his enemy, then perhaps he will be able to convince others to finally let go of the prejudice that created this whole conflict in the first place. For the first time since the battle, a small sense of peace settles in your chest.

It will be a long time before the wounds of this war stop hurting, and even longer before they heal. But, they will heal eventually. As if reading your mind, Potter's eyes turn thoughtful as he studies you. Then, he gives you the closest thing to a smile anyone is capable of at the moment, and you realize that you aren't really surprised. In that moment, you decide that you're willing to help those wounds heal however possible, even if it means letting go of the few people that have become your entire world. You never want another pair of kids forced into each of your situations again.

And, as you nod in return, you think that it just might be the start of a new era. It might not be here yet, but it just might be beginning to wake up.


End file.
